A massive "gooseneck" looks like a rooftop vent. And out front, two 10-inch, cast-iron pipes — the kind you might find under a street — support an entryway awning. The look continues on the inside, where pipes and conduit run overhead.

"We wanted the architecture to mimic what we do," says Ferran President Dolph Marmetschke. "So right off, people know who we are."

Well, most people.

I drove by the building three or four times before the synapses finally fired: "Ohhhh, it reflects the work the people do there (air conditioning, electrical and plumbing). Nice job, brain."

I suspect that tens of thousands of I-4 commuters have had a similar experience since the building opened in 2007. Located just south of downtown, between Division Street and the interstate, Ferran is now a landmark — a bit of eye candy along the region's busiest road.

The building has caught the attention of motorists, who have been known to stop and take pictures; of the Girl Scouts, who have taken tours; and of one particularly enthusiastic tourist from North Carolina. She liked it so much that she named her baby "Ferran."

"We sent her her very own, official Ferran T-shirt," said marketing director Stasia Brewer.

So, why does the building make such an impression?

First, it's playful. The colors and shapes are fun. Second, it makes a statement in a city that could stand to sharpen its architectural game. We have some attractive, interesting structures, but too many buildings have all the charm of a plantar wart.

When Marmetschke decided that Ferran Services needed a new home, he wanted something to show that business doesn't have to be dull.

He hired local architect Leonard Feinberg and asked for a design that represented what Ferran does. He had few specific orders other than telling Feinberg to include an open area for employees to talk and grab a cup of coffee.

"All I knew," said Marmetschke, "was that I didn't want to build a box."

Feinberg came back with the building you see today, though he and Marmetschke initially disagreed about one major element: the massive yellow fan. Marmetschke wanted something more subdued, but Feinberg pushed for bright yellow, saying drivers would otherwise miss it. Ultimately, the architect won.

"I said, 'It's only paint. Humor me,'" Feinberg recalled.

The project cost Marmetschke about $4 million, more than he would have spent on an industrial box. As sole owner, he had the luxury of making the call on his own, without having to convince a board of directors. He also had a nice windfall to use — about $3.3 million the state had paid to acquire some of the company's property.

A few associates warned that the building was too specialized, making it harder to sell should Marmetschke ever want to unload it. The South African native was unfazed.

"We wanted to say: 'We're not going anywhere,'" he said. "That was the point of it."

He has owned the company, which now has 185 employees, since 2000. He began working at Ferran in 1993 after years of being its banker. During his tenure, the company's revenue has more than tripled, despite the fact that Marmetschke has few trade skills himself.

Marmetschke said that over the last few years, the building has been more than a fun place to work. It has become one of Ferran's best marketing and business-development tools. It puts the company's name in front of tens of thousands of potential customers every day and gives them an image to recall the next time they need some work done around the house.

That helped Ferran weather the worst of the recession — a satisfying payoff for a decision that wasn't entirely about business.